


Dickkory - Hidden Scene

by Georgiathewholedaythrough



Category: DCU, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 12:04:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21299168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Georgiathewholedaythrough/pseuds/Georgiathewholedaythrough
Summary: This is basically what I would have wished to see after 2x07, but alas... The show robbed me of my wish, and so I have taken to good old fanfic to put it right. Dick and Kory finally having a much needed conversation after all the crazyness that's been going on. Hope y'all enjoy it.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	Dickkory - Hidden Scene

Later that evening when everyone retreats back to their rooms Dick finds himself going back up to the roof, sitting down on the ledge that Jason was contemplating taking his own life from just a few hours ago. The memory makes him frown, makes an icy cold feeling of dread wash over him as he tries to imagine what would have happened if he’d been a minute too late, or two, or five. He never thought that things with Jason would ever, could ever get to the point it had; sure, he knows that the kid is troubled, that he – like everyone else – has his own demons to battle with, but he hadn’t just been troubled up on that ledge he had been completely and utterly broken, hopeless. 

It was deeply unsettling how much Jason had reminded Dick of himself in that moment, of how it’s been for him ever since Deathstroke made his reappearance and forced him to relive his past failures. Trapped between the sins of the past and the sins of the present, one foot hanging precariously off the edge and one foot firm on solid ground. Suicide by what? Some misguided notion of martyrdom. As if it would somehow make up for all his wrongdoings, his regret, if he lost his life by stopping Slade once and for all. 

He can never make it right though, not really. His bad choices are stuck to him, stuck close as a shadow to a body. They’re in every breath that he breathes and every decision that he makes, they’re in every step that he takes and the way he carries himself. Dick knows this, has accepted it, and yet… 

Earlier on it had felt somewhat liberating, confessing his deepest shame to Jason. Like a weight – albeit small – had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe a little easier, move a little freer. Even when the boy had stared at him wide-eyed, an expression on his face that Dick hadn’t known how to read, and had not been fully sure what to say so had remained silent, it still felt… good. 

Now he just has to tell the others. It’s not going to go well he’s accepted that, there’ll probably be raised voices, angry and disappointed words hissed at him, maybe some relationships being done with for good. But he just hopes that _she won’t_, that Kory won’t. 

Just then the sound of footsteps approaching from behind pull Dick out of his thoughts, and he knows instantly who it is by the enticingly familiar scent that invades his senses: ambery warm and spicy. He can feel it in the way the tenseness of his muscles instinctively loosen up, a reaction to her physical presence that he’s powerless to control. It’s as if he’s managed to conjure her up just by thinking of her. Not a terrible power to have, he thinks. 

Kory reaches him and, much to his surprise and amusement, is carrying two half-filled glasses of what looks to be tequila in her hands. His mind drifts back to another time – her lips on his, their bodies flush against each other, his body aching with want of her - and he tries to school his face into a neutral expression. 

Her brown eyes study him intently as she reaches one to him in offering, her lips quirking up into a slight but genuine smile as she asks softly, “You want some company?” 

“I’d never refuse yours,” he replies, meeting her gaze and holding it for a minute longer after he takes the glass from her grip. 

Kory lets out an amused, maybe also pleased, chuckle and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder as she swings a leg over the ledge to sit down next to him. The simple action makes Dick’s lips twitch into a faint smile, makes him a little warmer even though the night air is cold. He knows that Kory has near perfect balance, she could have easily sat without having to touch him, so the fact that she did isn’t lost to him. It means that even though things between them aren’t where they should be, where he wants them to be and hopes she does too, at the very least she still seeks out his touch. 

Comfortable silence falls over the two of them as they take in the nightly sights ahead, occasionally knocking back some of the alcoholic liquid then wincing at the bitter sharpness. It’s one reason why Dick relishes being in Kory’s presence so much; she appreciates the quiet moments without feeling pressure to break it unnecessarily, she doesn’t push him to talk until he’s ready to.

He thinks he’s ready. 

“I should have called you,” he admits, voice soft and eyes focused on a building in-front of him, his thumb lightly tapping against his glass. 

Kory turns to him, a single brow arched as she regards him patiently, allowing him the space to get what he needs to say off his chest. 

“I wanted to, but I thought you needed space to figure things out. I didn’t want to -” he pauses, a sigh falling from his mouth as he tries to find the right words that will make her understand, “I didn’t want to be selfish with you.”

Her following silence makes something ugly twist in Dick’s stomach, it makes him look away from the building and into the brown pools of her eyes to see if he can see what she’s feeling. After a moment of staring at each other, Kory speaks. 

“Selfish is the last thing I’d call you, Dick Grayson. I mean I get it, but it would have been nice.”

She doesn’t sound angry or even judgemental, she never does, but there’s an element to her tone that makes him feel out of place. He doesn’t know what it is or how to really explain it, all he knows is that it’s a feeling that he doesn’t like. Dick opens his mouth to say something, an apology would be a good start, but Kory must realise because she swiftly cuts him off before the words can leave his mouth. 

“I could have called too, so I guess we both thought we were doing what was best for each other.”

Dick hums in agreement, but now he’s just a little bit curious. “Why didn’t you call?”

Kory looks at him for a long moment, like she’s weighing up whether what she’s about to say will be taken the wrong way or not. “I knew you’d be busy with the kids and that you probably wouldn’t have any time for me, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

He narrows his eyes, a frown starting on his face again; he can feel himself growing defensive even though at the back of his mind he knows that her reasoning for not calling hadn’t been wrong. “You wouldn’t have. I could have, I would have tried to -” he starts but soon trails off, unsure of what it is he’s trying to say in the first place.  
“I didn’t want you to have to try to do anything, Dick.” 

He understands, he really does. One bittersweet thing about Kory, he’s beginning to find, is that her words are always clear in their honesty, never half-truths or attempts to sugar coat anything because it’s what she thinks you might want to hear. On one hand it means there’s no room for misunderstanding, or at the very least if there is a misunderstanding it’s by choice; it also means, however, that the unintentionality of her words stinging, often times makes the sting worse. 

This time the silence that settles over them is slightly less comfortable, it’s tense with everything that’s being spoken without being vocalised. Thankfully after a while Kory breaks it, and although he’s grateful he finds himself wary about the topic they’re on the brinks of discussing. 

“So Deathstroke really has all of you rattled, huh.”

An _understatement_, he thinks with a bitter laugh. He downs the rest of the alcohol in his glass, liquid courage and all that, before placing it to the side of him. He runs his fingers nervously through his hair, sneaking a quick glance at Kory who’s watching him ever patiently. Exhaling a shaky breath, he finally opens his mouth and tells her the truth. 

How Deathstroke had killed Garth on his birthday and left the team feeling vengeful and devastated, how in response Dick had tracked down his son and gotten close to him, had made him believe that they were genuinely friends only to lead him right into the palms of his father – like the proverbial lamb to the slaughter. He tells her how Jericho had taken the killing blow that was aimed for him, how the others had left him after they found out he’d died, how it had broken him more than he thought it would, and how it was because of that that he was reluctant to reveal what had happened out of fear everyone would leave again. 

After Dick is done he can’t quite find it in himself to meet her gaze, which he’s sure is going to be filled with disgust, and so he looks away. His body tensing up in preparation for whatever might come next.

When nothing comes next, or at least not immediately, he allows himself to turn back to her. Kory doesn’t say anything for a good while after he finishes, but her facial expression tells him enough about her reaction to what he’s just said; the sadness flashing transparently in her eyes, the distressed furrowing of her brows, her mouth that’s downturned in a slight frown. She’s looking at him with something akin to understanding, like everyone’s behaviour suddenly makes sense to her now: the weird tension between him and the others, why he was so quick to trade himself for Jason, why he didn’t ask her for help when he knew she would have it given freely. It’s a terrifying rush being seen, being understood, it’s certainly not a feeling that Dick is used to. 

Her hand suddenly reaches up and cups the side of his face, her thumb gently wiping away the tears that he hadn’t even realised had fallen. Dick thinks he should probably feel embarrassed, being so vulnerable like this, but he can’t quite muster up the energy to care. 

“His death wasn’t your fault,” she murmurs, gentle but firm, unwavering in her faith of him. 

He shakes his head vehemently, the tears flowing even freer now. It’s as if now that he’s started he can’t seem to stop. Maybe he doesn’t even want to. “I killed him, Kory,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word.

“Listen to me, Dick Grayson,” and she puts her unfinished drink to one side, freeing her other hand to cup the other side of Dick’s face. “Did you use Jericho? Yes. Was it wrong? Of course. But did you kill him, were you responsible for his death? No. It’s fucked up how it all went down, it’s really fucked up. But if Dawn, Hank and Donna somehow made you feel like it was all your fault, like they didn’t play a role in it, if they can look down on you for it then y’know what, fuck them and you’re better off without them.” 

Dick stares at her with wide eyes, shocked at the venom laced in her tone. He can’t remember a time when he’s heard such bitterness come from her; he’s not going to waste time lying by saying that it isn’t touching, that hearing Kory defending him isn’t everything to him, but he can’t help but doubt whether he’s deserving of her protectiveness. 

“Kory,” he tries, but the argument dies on his tongue at the look she sends him. 

“Dick, you cared for that boy. You feel guilty because you think that if you hadn’t brought him in then Slade wouldn’t have found him, that he wouldn’t have died. But there’s no use blaming yourself for what you didn’t do, or thinking about what ifs; it happened, it was horrible, but you can’t let it have so much power over you, you have to find a way to move on.”

She’s right, he knows she is, and if he looks deep inside himself he’ll find that he’s always known it. But he’s spent so long carrying this baggage that to suddenly let go of it terrifies him, it overwhelms him because he doesn’t know where the fuck to even begin unloading at, all he knows right now is that he’s exhausted from all this. 

“Kory,” he whispers reverently this time, his eyes searching for an answer that he finds in her gaze. He inches forward and rests his forehead gently against hers, both their eyes falling shut as they relish in this unexplored area of intimacy between them, their mouths inches apart and breaths intermingling in an even and soothing rhythm. 

Dick doesn’t know where to start, but if he’s learnt anything at all it’s that the only way out is through, and so he’ll endure. 

// end


End file.
